The Carved Box
by Lily Wanderer
Summary: Before the Uprising could happen, Jocelyn killed Valentine. She committed the greatest sin among the nephilim and she has raised Clary as a mundane. When Clary learns about her origins, how will she cope and which life will she choose? Her fellow mundanes or the exotic world of the Shadowhunters?
1. Prologue

Hey guys! So I am currently in the middle of my other story, Green and Gold, but I suddenly had this great idea for a story! Don't worry, I will finish Green and Gold. Anyways, this chapter is a prologue and T rated. There will be lemons later on, but I couldn't bring myself to write a lemon between Jocelyn and Valentine because she is trying to forget this part of her life and therefore, didn't include as many details as I normally would have used. Thanks and enjoy!

Please Read and Review! (Hint: The more reviews, the faster I write!)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments.

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Jocelyn's hands trembled and the papers she was holding nearly fell out. Her green eyes were frantic as they skimmed over the words and as she finished the last page, her legs gave out. She fell onto the chair with a light thud and curled her free arm around her swollen stomach. _How could he do this? How could he do this to our own children? The Clave, I must notify the Clave before it is too late._

Glancing at the clock, Jocelyn noted that Valentine would not be home for another two hours. That gave her a solid hour to make preparations to escape and figure out what to do. By tomorrow, Idris will be plunged into chaos and possibly under a new regime. Even if she managed to stop Valentine's "revolution", she had to leave the nephilim world behind her tonight. She might escape punishment but her children would not be so lucky. The Clave couldn't leave their fates to chance and would kill them on sight, especially Jonathan.

Jocelyn barely managed to hide her revulsion when she thought about Jonathan. The moment she saw him, she knew that there was something wrong with him. His eyes were black pits and his fingers resembled miniature claws. When she saw that, she couldn't bear to look at him. Despite Valentine's anger and pleading, she refused to hold him and thought he was a monster. Now, she knew the truth, and he truly was a monster. Demon blood ran through his veins and regardless of his upbringing, he will always be evil.

She couldn't change what happened to her unborn child, but at least this one contained the blood of an angel. All nephilim were born with angel blood and her child would simply contain more of it. Jocelyn didn't know how her second child will turn out, and she will be damned if she let Valentine turn her baby into a super soldier.

For years, she listened to Valentine speak of a revolution. He dreamed of changing the ways of the outdated Clave and reforming them in his image. For a while, she truly believed in what he said but Jonathan's birth was the first step that helped break the spell; Valentine's sanity quickly spiraled downwards in the past year, but she was too weak to leave him. She planned on staying because of her children, until she found his papers. The sick details were too much for her and were the last straw.

Setting Valentine's papers exactly the way she found them, she crept out of his study and walked back to her room. She opened her closet and withdrew a heavy wooden box. It was a present from Valentine, back when they were dating. He carved her this magnificent wooden box and told her that she could use it to store her weapons. Her lip trembled; her husband was not the man she fell in love with two years ago. She repeated it like a mantra.

The more she said it, the more she started to believe that the current Valentine was a stranger. It made her impending task easier and calmed her hands as she began to sharpen her weapons. Aside from one seraph blade, she set everything back to normal and slid the knife under the pillow. There was no other option. If she left Valentine to the mercy of the Clave, he would find her and he would steal her child. Her unborn child was one of his experiments and there was no way in hell that he would let Jocelyn keep her as long as he lived.

Valentine arrived home just before dinner. They shared a quiet meal together, each absorbed in their thoughts about the following day. Brushing his mouth with his napkin, Valentine ordered his men to get some rest and not to disturb him for the rest of the night. Silently, Jocelyn followed him up to their room and jumped when he closed the door.

"What's wrong? You have been quiet all evening." His concern made her heart ache and Jocelyn avoided his eyes.

"I'm just nervous for tomorrow. We spent years planning this out and it's finally coming to fruition. What if something goes wrong? What if you get hurt?" Jocelyn's excuse seemed acceptable to Valentine and he brought her into his arms.

"My sweet, I am nervous about tomorrow too. Tomorrow will be the start of a new era and I swear to you that I will come back."

Jocelyn listened to the sound of his calming sound of his heartbeat before she responded. "Do you promise my love?"

"Of course. Now enough worrying, let's retire early for tonight and promise me that you will remain here during the battle; I don't want you or my child to get hurt." Valentine tilted her face upwards and looked her in the eye.

Instead of responding, Jocelyn slid her arms around his neck and pressed a heated kiss to his lips. In order for her plan to work, she had to catch Valentine when he was most vulnerable, when he would be so distracted that he wouldn't notice the knife making its way into his back. If she tried to do it now, he would have spotted the knife the moment it left her sheath and she didn't want to imagine the consequences.

Valentine tenderly rubbed her stomach as they kissed. Even though the passion was making their minds lose control, his love and tenderness for his unborn child nearly broke Jocelyn's resolve. She steeled herself and allowed the pleasure to take over, knowing that it will be the last time. Jocelyn could only allow herself this final moment with him and after today, she would never get the chance to be with the physical form of the man she fell in love with several years ago.

Jocelyn nearly forgot what she had planned until her hand brushed the cool metal of her seraph blade. Gripping it, she pulled Valentine's head down, whispered that she loved him, and slammed the blade into his back, straight through his heart. His eyes showed betrayal and blood quickly poured out of the wound, soaking the crisp white sheets. Jocelyn slipped out from Valentine's body and looked at it in horror. She just committed the greatest sin in their world; she killed one of her own kind. This was a sin punishable by death. Even though she is saving hundreds of lives, she will never be allowed to return to this world. For a few moments, Jocelyn let the grief overwhelm her and she mourned the death of her husband.

~o.O.o~

Slipping on the most mundane clothes that she owned, Jocelyn quickly walked towards Valentine's dungeon. The guards were surprised to see her but they dared not question her actions. Jocelyn slipped a key from her neck and briskly walked to the final cage. Hanging by blessed chains, the vampire's wrists could not heal. His abilities allowed him to hang without too much discomfort but he couldn't heal with the chains on. Out of all of Valentine's prisoners, this one did not deserve his punishment. He was too young and innocent for this torture.

The nameless vampire stared at her as she unlocked the door. He could smell Valentine's scent all over her and knew that she was his wife; unlike the monster himself, she was merciful. What surprised him however, was the smell of Valentine's blood under her clothing. He was fed yesterday so he was able to ignore the bloodlust raging through his body. Puzzled, he kept silent and tracked her movements. To his surprise, she held a key, just out of his reach.

"I am giving you one shot at freedom. Lie to me or answer wrong, and I will leave you to the mercy of the Clave. Do you understand me?" Hesitantly, he nodded and waited for her to continue. If Valentine was offering this, he knew that it was some sort of ploy, but the woman would not be cruel enough to dangle freedom in front of a prisoner's face.

"If I let you go, you must swear to me that you will not harm me and that you will only free the prisoners who deserve freedom. I do not care that the night children are in a feud with the children of the moon. In this dungeon, you are all equals and if you see that one is innocent, set him free. Understand? I would do it myself but I am running out of time." Bewildered, he nodded his head and swore to uphold his promise. He would question it, but this woman was offering him freedom for a substantially small price and he couldn't turn down those hypnotic green eyes.

"Make sure you do this quietly. You do not want to alert the guards. Valentine is no longer a threat but in exactly half an hour, this place will be swarming with members of the Clave. They will not spare you any mercy. Wait until I exit the dungeon before you start freeing people. Questions?"

"Why are you doing this?" He mentally kicked himself. He should have been happy to be free but he had to ruin it by questioning his savior's motives.

"You are innocent and I spent too long letting my husband spiral out of control. Now do not take what I am about to do as an insult."

A sting resounded through the dungeon and the woman cursed him for his demonic virus. She swiftly placed the key in his hand and walked away without a glance.

~o.O.o~

Jocelyn walked past the guards, barking at them to stand by their posts, no matter what happened. She went over to Valentine's study and selected all of the most incriminating documents. She slid two journals into her bag, the ones dictating her husband's experimentation with both her unborn child and the Herondale boy. He was an innocent child and didn't need to be dragged further into this mess. From what she could tell, the Herondale boy showed no obvious manifestations of his gift and in that way alone, he was blessed.

She set everything in plain view, including the names of Circle members, Valentine's plans, and finally, Jonathan's journal for last. Starting a fire, Jocelyn wrote an urgent message to the Inquisitor; she begged him for help, claiming that forsaken had overrun the mansion. Jocelyn quickly used a hidden portal in the closet and ran off, carrying nothing but her box of weapons, a bag of clothes, and several expensive pieces of jewelry. With a final look behind her, she looked outside and viewed Alicante's glass spires for one last time.

Ave atque vale my love.


	2. The Broken Glamour

Hey guys! So here is another chapter to my brand new story! This is a pretty action packed chapter and I promise that the next one will contain lots of action too. I am also thinking of getting a beta so if you want to be one, please PM me as soon as possible. Just because I love you guys, expect another chapter in one or two more days.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments.

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Clary giggled as her hand pulled away from her mother's face. A bright purple handprint decorated her mother's left cheek and now, there was a blue one on her right. Jocelyn shifted Clary's small body closer and strode over to the hallway mirror, admiring her new look.

"Hmm, it looks great, but I think it's missing something." Clary tilted her head in confusion and gasped as the cool paint touched her face. Staring at the mirror, Clary's face broke into a grin as she watched her mother use a finger to paint a green cat on her cheek. Twisting her head around, Clary laughed at the lopsided smile on the cat's face and unhooked an arm from her mother's neck. She wiggled around for some room and managed to pull out one of the cameras from the chest's drawers.

Getting the hint, Jocelyn laughed and grabbed the camera before Clary could drop it. Supporting Clary on her hip, she snapped several pictures, each featuring the two of them smiling or making a silly face. Jocelyn set the camera down and gently brushed the hair away from her daughter's face. _Nine years. I left Idris nine years ago and five months later, I had Clarissa. I will never see the glass towers again but she's worth it. It was all worth it._

Thinking about Idris made Jocelyn remember Magnus's surprise visit this morning. While Clary was asleep, Magnus came over to warn her about select members of the Clave coming to inspect the New York Institute. After a group of demons exploited the safety defaults in the Paris Institute, the Clave was not taking any more chances and planned a surprise visit. Somehow, Magnus got word that they were coming and decided to warn her ahead of time. Normally, he wouldn't bother doing this for one of the nephilim, but he probably didn't want to lose a valued customer.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Jocelyn saw that Clary was starting to get bored and began to play with her necklace. For her eighth birthday, Jocelyn gave Clary a simple silver chain, with two rings: the Graymark and Fairchild rings. To any mundane, these rings were at most an odd present to give an eight year old child, but if anything happened to Jocelyn, they guaranteed that she would be given a home. As ruthless the Clave could be, their depleted ranks meant that they would never turn away a child with Clave blood and Jocelyn had to make sure that Clary would always have someone to protect her, even if it meant returning her to the nephilim.

In that situation, whoever found Clary would assume that Luke was her father and she would not be branded a traitor; at most, she would be scorned for being fathered by a werewolf. Still, Jocelyn prayed that none of this would happen. Few people knew what had actually happened and even fewer knew the complete truth.

Gently, Jocelyn pulled the chain out of Clary's hands and proposed an "adventure". Clary wrinkled her nose at that word, but Jocelyn quickly appeased her by promising a trip to the comic bookstore. Still feeling reluctant, Clary slid to the ground and quickly changed for their outing.

~o.O.o~

"Alright Clary. Where do we go next?" Clary sighed and tugged her mom's hand down the street. A year ago, her mom proposed that they go on an adventure, but after four of these so called "adventures" Clary quickly grew tired of them. They always went to one of three places and by now, Clary could probably walk to all of them with her eyes closed.

Clary was always tempted to ask her mom why she had to know how to walk to these places, but every time they went, her mom had this weird look on her face. It meant that she was scared, and nothing scared her mom. Nothing. All her mom would tell her is that is anything should happen to her, she should run to Luke's place or go to this flat in Brooklyn. If it was a real emergency and something bad happened to her mom, she had to go straight to this beat up church.

Today, they were headed to the church, though Clary couldn't understand why. It looked beat up and their was trash all over the place. Plus, they always had to wear hoods and sunglasses. Her mom called it playing pretend, but Clary could tell that there was more to it. Her mom always looked more scared when they went here, yet she insisted that Clary know how to get there.

Once Clary asked what she was supposed to do or say when she got to the church. Her mom told her to place her hand on the door and say "In the name of the angel, I seek sanctuary." They never actually tried it but her mom swore that it would work. Then, she had to go find whoever lived in the church, which sounded crazy to Clary, and demand protection as "a child of the Clave". None of this made sense and Clary prayed that she wouldn't be forced to use any of it. She didn't want someone to see her and think that she was a crazy girl who spoke to doors.

"Good job Clary! Now why don't we go to the comic bookstore and then get some ice cream!" Shrieking in excitement, Clary forgot her annoyance of going on this adventure and quickly followed her mom towards a waiting cab.

~o.O.o~

Clary and her mom walked out of the restaurant laughing. It was dark outside and Clary could barely make out the slight twinkle of the stars when she looked up. Whenever they went out for dinner, they always went to different restaurants and this one was one of her new favorites. Hand in hand, they walked down the street and Clary barely noticed that they were near the old church.

Two pale skinned guys were in the opposite direction and Clary felt her mom's hand tighten. The guys didn't pay them any attention until they got closer and one of them immediately stopped. His friend stopped right away and looked confused.

The first man circled the two of them and Clary wrapped her arm around her mother's leg. "You look familiar. Where have I seen you before? You and your daughter are the angel's children but I usually do not care to remember your kind's faces."

"I'm sure that you must be mistaken. I don't know what you mean and if you will excuse me, my daughter and I have to leave."

"Not so fast." The man lunged impossibly fast and stepped in front of them. His eyes were narrowed but recognition quickly dawned on his face. "It's you. You are the woman who-"

The man never got a chance to finish his sentence. He and his friend quickly turned their noses towards an alley and the silent one prepared to leave. He looked at the speaker, waiting for his orders and raised his eyebrows when he was told to stay and fight.

"I smell eight demons. Grab your daughter and go before they-" The man was interrupted as a hideous black monster came up to them. It was covered in eyes and had a nasty looking tail, like a scorpion. Clary distantly heard herself scream and felt her mother push her in the direction of the church. Forcing herself to breath, she could make out her mother screaming at her to run and then pulling out a large blade from her boots.

Clary's blood was rapidly pumping through her veins as she tried running away. Her short legs slowed her down and one of the monsters broke away from the pack. Clary's mom tried to stop it but her hands were full and it leapt right in front of her. A long tongue rolled out of its mouth and saliva dripped out as all of its eyes began to appraise her. One of the two men, the leader, broke away and was by her side in less than a second. With incredible strength, he seized the monster by its jaws and literally ripped it apart. The monster let out a terrible scream and seemed to cave in itself.

Clary wanted to look at it more but the man snatched her up. He ignored her screams and ran to the side of the church, ripping the padlock off an intricate looking gate. They entered a strange and spacious room, and the man put her down. As he pounded on a tall set of doors, Clary looked around. Tables were set up near a fancy water fountain and to the side, there was a bathroom. She was confused and terrified. Where did this man take her? Even more important, what were those things and where was her mother?

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Please Read and Review! P.S I tried describing this room based off the Sanctuary in Clockwork Angel. I apologize if I got it wrong.


	3. The Truth

Hey! As promised, here is another chapter to my latest story. Jace doesn't come into this chapter just yet, but I promise that he will feature in the next one. This is a bit dramatic at the end but I want to establish a good foundation for the story before I get into any lemony business. I did this whole thing in Maryse's POV, which is something that I have never done before. Tell me if you think it's too OOC or something. I would love to get your feedback! Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments.

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Maryse was making lunch for the children when she heard a high pitched siren echoing through the halls. She immediately dropped the bowl of pasta and sprinted down the stairwell at the end of the hall. As she ran, she could hear Robert join her, followed by the visiting Clave members. _In the name of the angel, why did the alarm have to go off when the Clave was performing their inspections?_

Skidding to a halt in front of the Sanctuary's doors, Maryse was about to walk in when Robert put his hand on her shoulder. He placed a seraph blade in one hand and put a mark of protection on the side of her neck. She returned the favor and nodded. They were proud to be shadowhunters, but it was a dangerous occupation and neither knew what they would find behind the doors. All downworlders knew that they could seek the nephilim's assistance if they were in danger, but few rarely used it. They preferred to settle matters their own way and were more likely to side against them if given the opportunity.

Pushing the doors open, Maryse disabled the alarm and felt her eyebrows hit her hairline. A vampire, the head of the New York clan no less, was the one who raised the alarm and his clothes were covered in ichor. By the fountain, a small mundane girl was crying and staring at them with wide green eyes. Before Maryse could demand an explanation, two younger Clave members surged forward and slammed him into a nearby pillar. They pulled out blessed chains and quickly bound him.

He snarled but did not put up a resistance. "You idiots, I am here to help you. There is a pack of demons, two blocks down, and they are attacking one of your own. My lieutenant is helping her hold them off but they are outnumbered and won't last much longer."

Maryse held up a hand to quiet everyone. "Why should we trust your information, bloodsucker?"

"As head of my clan, I am bound by the Accords to help you. Besides, why would I be standing here, chained and covered in ichor, if I wasn't telling the truth?" Murmuring broke out from behind Maryse and a man stepped forwards.

"Maryse, I will take Robert, Carstairs, and Branwell with me to investigate. Stay behind and try to get more information out of the vampire." She tensed, but she wouldn't dare waste time arguing over something petty when there was a possible attack occurring.

After the group streamed out the door, Maryse came closer to the vampire. "The Accords require you to report an attack but I know for a fact that you don't give a damn about what the Accords say. I believe that you were recently in a fight with a pack of demons, but I want to know why you came here and why you brought that girl with you."

The vampire narrowed his eyes and gave a sharp laugh. "Madre de di-, you are smarter than you look. I don't suppose you would believe me if I said that I did it out of the kindness of my non-beating heart?" Maryse took a threatening step forward and took a blessed cross from the inside of her boot. The vampire's eyes tracked the movement of the cross, but did not cower or show any fear.

"Fine. I don't give a damn about that girl and this is the first time I met her. I only brought her here because I owed her mother a favor and unlike your kind, I repay my debts." He looked bitter and stared at the girl. "Even now, I still have not repaid my debt and if her mother dies, I will be in debt to that little girl."

"What did her mother do that made you in debt to her?" The man's face hardened and he looked her right in the eyes.

"She saved my life." Maryse waited for him to explain in further detail when she spied Robert's black hair coming through the gates. Aside from a minor scratch on his arm, he and everyone else appeared to be fine, except for the woman in his arms. She wore mundane clothes, which were currently torn apart, and her hand barely held onto an old seraph blade. Her red hair was stained with black fluids but there was something familiar about that shade of red.

The little girl broke out of her shock and shrieked. She ran towards her mother and held her hand as Robert laid the woman on the ground. Tears streamed down the girl's face and based on the pity in everyone's eyes, it appeared that the woman was dead. The other shadowhunters moved off to the side and Penhallow approached her.

"What happened?" Jian Penhallow sighed and rubbed a weary hand over his face.

"The woman and another vampire were surrounded by a pack of Raveners. They were outmatched and by the time we showed, she was on the ground, dying. The other vampire was standing by her body, preventing the demons from getting any closer but he was also wounded and we quickly took care of the remaining demons. I sent Carstairs around the block to see if there were anymore, but it looks like they were the only ones." Jian paused to take a breath and he gratefully accepted her water bottle. He winced at a particularly loud sob from the girl and Maryse could see the lines on his face deepen.

Jian was proud to be such a high ranking member of the Clave but it was a stressful position. He was in his fifties and like all shadowhunters, was no stranger to tragedy. They both lost their parents to demon attacks, but that happened when they were already adults. This was just a little girl. It would have to be up to Jian to officially declare her a ward of the Clave and to summon the Silent Brothers to take care of her mother.

"What happened to my lieutenant?" Jian started and turned towards the forgotten vampire.

"He was wounded and I had Branwell escort him to a local downworlder diner to replenish his blood supply. He sends his apologies and will return here once he regains his strength."

"Didn't you try an iratze on the woman? Sometimes they work even when a person is on the brink of death."

"We tried that. It healed her outer wounds but she had too much poison in her system. Do you recognize the woman?" Maryse forced her eyes to look at the dead woman. She looked familiar but couldn't recall how she knew the woman. The girls sobs began to quiet and she looked towards them, as if she could sense that they were looking at her.

Pushing herself up on unsteady feet, the girl clutched her necklace and walked over. Her voice was shaky but clear. "In the name of the angel, I demand protection as a child of the Clave." Maryse and Jian stared at the girl in surprise. Neither recognized the girl but she could obviously see them and declared herself one of the nephilim. Something in their eyes must have given them away and the girl's hands went towards her necklace. She deftly undid the clasp and deposited two rings into Maryse's hand.

Jian peered over and gasped. The wide silver rings were old and matched her own, but the insignias were different; these bore the mark of the Fairchild and Greymark families. "That's not possible. The Greymarks are all married and too young to have fathered her. The Fairchild line died out nearly a decade ago." Jian lifted his head and stared at the little girl with an accusing glare. The girl cowered under it and reflexively slid behind Maryse's leg for protection.

A dark chuckle broke the tension. "You may think that you know everything shadowhunter but there are dark secrets from the past. I do not know either of those families but I know one thing. That dead woman is her mother and her father belongs to neither of those families. In fact, he has been dead for nine years and at the hands of his wife too." Maryse looked at Jian in confusion but he looked livid. The vampire's taunts were not helping the situation but he held all of the cards.

"Who is her father? In the name of the Clave, I demand that you tell me!" The vampire smirked.

"You seem so eager now, but I doubt you will like my answer once you hear it. Nevertheless, I submit to the will of the Clave and will tell you." He paused and looked into the girl's wide eyes.

"She is the surviving child of Valentine Morgenstern."

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P.S Which POV would you like to hear from next?


	4. Ward or Hostage?

Here is another chapter to my story! Yay, another chapter! Alright, probably only a handful of you guys will be happy, but I am stoked about this. For those who are looking for lemons, this story will have a lot of them but they will all be further into the story. I am a little iffy about the ending, therefore, message me if you want to be my beta and together we can turn this into an awesome story!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments.

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Jian and Maryse whipped their heads around to stare at Clary. The name meant nothing to her, but gave her accusing stares. Scared, Clary backed away from Maryse's leg and tried returning to her mother's limp body. A hand shot out and seized her wrist. Clary glanced up and squirmed under the man's harsh gaze. Surveying the room, Clary saw that all of the adults were staring at her with disbelief or blatant hatred, and she didn't know why. She never met her father and she met these people less than an hour ago, most of which she had spent mourning her mother. The man who saved her and who was now chained to a wall merely stared at her in amusement; she didn't know why, but that look felt even less comforting than the hostile stares from the rest of the room.

The man holding her, Jian, dragged her back to the one who was chained. Clary tried dragging her feet and pulling her wrist away, but he was too strong. It was like an iron manacle gripping her wrist, so Clary used a trick Luke taught her when some kids started picking on her at the playground. She made her body go completely limp and the extra weight caught Jian by surprise. His grip loosened just enough for her to yank her arm away and she ran to the woman, Maryse.

She wrapped her small arms around the woman's muscled leg and screamed for her Uncle Luke. This was the first time he didn't come save her; it was impossible to expect that Luke would magically show up and save the day, like they do in the movies.

Smaller, calloused hands wrapped around Clary's back and Maryse gently wrapped her in her arms. Sniffling, Clary wrapped her arms around Maryse's neck and buried her face in the crook of it, ignoring the flash of gold from the corner of her eyes. The soothing motion of Maryse rubbing her back and the exhaustion from being exposed to dozens of strange sights quickly quieted Clary. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but forced her ears to listen to the adults speak.

"Valentine? That's impossible. If he had a daughter, the Clave would have discovered it when they searched his mansion." Clary felt Maryse's hands tense.

"You're right. It shouldn't be possible." Jian's boots scuffled the ground as he turned to face the chained man. "How do you know that Valentine had a daughter and that it is her?"

"Easy. I was chained in Valentine's dungeon for four months before that girl's mother freed me. I suppose she did it right after she killed him, but it was definitely before she alerted you guys. As for the girl, I could see that the woman was pregnant and she looks exactly like her mother." His voice dropped into a deep, humorless chuckle. "It looks like a blessing that she doesn't resemble Valentine at all, but who's to say the girl doesn't share his personality?"

"Valentine was murdered almost a decade ago. How can you possibly remember that woman's face after one encounter and in a dark dungeon?" Jian's voice seemed to tighten and got louder as he spoke.

There was a tense silence before the man spoke. "It's not easy to forget the face of the woman who saved your life. Her scars and scent merely helped me remember. Now, may I leave? I must attend to my coven."

Someone snapped his fingers, Jian perhaps, and Clary heard the chains hit the ground. His feet barely made a sound as he walked and Clary twisted around to look at him. "Wait! What's your name?" He turned around and stared at her for a few seconds. Clary felt his eyes scanning her face, her body, searching for something, but she didn't know what he wanted. She conducted her own and was surprised to see how young he looked.

He looked like he was still in high school, but acted older. Dark brown hair was brushed away from his tan, yet ethereal, face and he moved with too much grace. Something about him wasn't right and it didn't help with the way everyone referred to him. Dimly, she recalled someone calling him a bloodsucker and he just said that he had to return to his coven. The only times she heard someone use those words was in reference to vampires. Before today, she would have brushed that thought off, but she had too many surprises today. If monsters were possible, then vampires were possible too. Maybe this was just a nightmare.

He slowly walked back to her. Maryse made no move to stop him, but Clary could feel her muscles tense and saw the man's eyes narrow as if he caught the motion. Right before he reached her, he undid a simple silver chain from his neck. "Raphael little one. If you are in danger, show this to anyone in my coven and they will help you. Use it wisely. You can only use it once." Clary held out hand to take it, but he chose to place it around her neck. The cold touch of his skin made Clary shiver and confirmed her belief that he was a vampire.

When the gates banged shut behind him, Clary slid out of Maryse's arms and walked to her mother's body. The exhaustion was finally too much for her to bare and Clary grabbed her mother's cooling hand before she felt her eyes shut.

~o.O.o~

Jace was in the middle of sparring with Alec when he heard the alarm. Robert was supervising them and he yelled at them to stay put while he ran out the door. Jace scoffed. _Does he honestly think he could make me stay? I am Jace Wayland and nobody my age can defeat me. In a few more years, I will be unstoppable and even Robert and Maryse won't be able to control me._

While Alec was busy dealing with one of Isabelle's little fits, Jace snuck out of the training room and into a cleaning closet. It was situated next to the sanctuary and with all of the commotion inside, nobody would notice him. He withdrew a steele from his pocket and drew a box like structure on the adjacent wall. Like magic, the box became clear and he eagerly peeked at the scene.

It appeared that Maryse and the visiting Clave members had just arrived at the scene. They used blessed chains to bind the vampire, but what caught his attention was the forgotten girl in the corner. She buried her face into her knees and wrapped thin, pale arms around herself. Jace listened to the conversation but he found himself transfixed on the girl throughout the entire encounter. There were moments where he reeled in shock, like when the girl proclaimed herself one of the nephilim or when the vampire said that her father was Valentine. Jace knew that something bad happened ten years ago and that it involved Valentine Morgenstern, but none of the adults seemed willing to talk about it.

Jace had to clench his fists as he continued listening. The senior member of the Clave was acting especially cruel to the girl, and right after she just lost her mother. It didn't matter that she was the daughter of some monster; she was still a little girl who needed time to mourn her mother, not spend it being interrogated. Fed up with the scene, Jace closed the screen and snuck closer; he had to get a better look at the girl. The vampire was the only one who spotted him, but the man did not acknowledge him.

Once the girl fell asleep, Maryse kneeled beside her. "Jian, what are we going to do with her? Can she live here in the Institute? Robert?"

"I do not know. I will need to confer with the Clave and Inquisitor before I make a decision. At the very least, I want a Silent Brother to come down and determine what she knows about our kind. For now, put her in one of the spare rooms and we will speak tomorrow. Officially, the Clave will have to suspend our inspection, but I honestly see no need to continue. Maryse, you and Robert are obviously keeping this place in order." Pausing to catch his breath, the man glanced over the dead woman's body.

"I can't believe it. How did Jocelyn Fairchild evade us for so many years? She must have used a warlock to hide herself and the girl during the Valentine fiasco. What a shame. There are still some things I would have wanted her to clear up, especially the depth of her knowledge about the experiments. I will also send word to the Silent Brothers about her body and have them arrange the funeral."

"Jian, can we schedule the interrogation after the funeral? This girl is going through so much and I doubt she will be able to handle a visit from the Silent Brothers on the same day as her mother's funeral." Once again, Jace felt surprised. Maryse always made sure everyone was healthy and well fed, but she wasn't exactly the most maternal character. In the year that he had known her, he only saw her act like a mother a handful of times.

After a pause, Jian nodded and turned towards the door. Jace silently scuttled away and ran back to the closet before anyone could see him. He pressed his ear against the door and waited for everyone to leave. Tense, he heard Robert and Maryse walking away, but their footsteps seemed louder than normal. Perhaps, it was because they were carrying the girl away? It didn't matter; the steps were going in the other direction and that meant he was safe.

Just as Jace breathed in relief, the door swung open and he fell onto his backside. Ignoring the urge to rub it, Jace tried to appear as innocent as possible to Maryse. She had her hands on her hips and was giving him one of her signature glares. "Jonathan Christopher Wayland, what do you think you are doing here? I thought Robert told you to stay put in the training room. There is a reason why there is an alarm and that is so downworlders could come to us if they need help. What if it was a ploy to lure us onto unhallowed ground? You could have gotten hurt young man and need to be taught a lesson."

Maryse continued on for a while, but Jace eventually tuned her out. He made his face appear as though he was listening and feeling repentant to appease her. All he could think about was that girl. With a start, he realized that he didn't even know the girl's name. The adults didn't bother to ask her and they simply chose to refer to her as Valentine's daughter; everything she did would now be under scrutiny and in a few days, she would have to go through an interrogation with the Silent Brothers.

If there was a god, why would he keep doing this? He already orphaned a girl and was going to make her life a whole lot worse because of her lineage. He already dealt Jace a bad hand; all of his suffering should have been enough. There should be some mystical suffering quota for the world and it was already pretty high for the nephilim. That girl was just another victim of this eternal war, but making her deal with all of this felt cruel. God was not supposed to be cruel; he is supposed to be a kind deity who cares about humans. Maybe there is no god.

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P.S Read and Review!


	5. Rescue

Hey guys! Here is my latest chapter! I think I am going to post once a week, now that I finally have a beta: Lola FloppyEars! She is awesome and is helping me fix up my stories for you guys. This chapter is a bit longer than the others and there are three different perspectives: Luke, Clary, and Bat respectively. I like experimenting with my POVs so tell me what you guys think about it.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments.

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"-woman and her little girl." Two of the newer werewolves were talking quietly amongst themselves, but they forgot about a werewolf's super sensitive hearing- meaning everyone in the room could hear what was said. Nobody bothered telling the pups since it was good gossip and it would teach them to be more aware of their surroundings.

"Really? Right in front of that old church? Those demons had some balls." Luke was busy dealing with one of his sergeants, but his ears picked up those words. He always listened for any news regarding the nephilim, in case it affected Jocelyn or Clary. Now that he thought about it, Jocelyn forgot to call him last night. She mentioned some sort of visit from the Clave, but Clary interrupted before she could finish.

"Yeah, I heard it while I was over in The Hole and went to check it out. The place reeks of bloodsuckers, demons, and especially one of the angel's children. I even found some red hair-" Luke was across the room before the boy could finish. Seizing him by his throat, Luke slammed the newborn into the wall with enough force to make a dent. In the back of his mind, Luke could tell that the room suddenly became quiet. Screw the pack, he had to find out.

Gasping, the boy stared at Luke with wide eyes. He didn't dare fight or try pulling away from him though; Luke was the alpha. Growling, Luke pulled the boy up until they were eye level.

"What else did you find out? How much blood was at the scene and when did it occur?"

The boy's chin quivered in fear and his voice was unsteady. "It happened around 7 last night and there was mainly demon blood. I definitely smelled shadowhunter blood though. I-I, I grabbed some of the hair because I wanted to show it off, but that was it! I swear Luke!" The boy looked like a mess. He was shaking from fear and slowly running out of air from Luke's tightening grip. Confusion and alarm made the kid's voice get higher, reminding Luke about how young the boy really was.

With a cold stare, Luke gradually released the boy. He sunk pitifully to the floor and his eyes darted around, looking for support. Everybody was too confused to offer him help- not that they would even dare disobey their alpha to help out a newbie.

"Give me the hair." Shakily, the boy reached inside his shirt pocket and withdrew a few strands of curly red hair. Luke stared at it, panic momentarily overriding his brain, before he snatched it and held it up to his nose. Sniffing the tattered pieces of hair, Luke's senses were assaulted by the strong odor of the pup, but could still discern a certain scent from it. Her scent. Before Luke could give his pack orders, the pup mentioned one more piece of information. "I-I, I'm not sure if it's true, but I heard a vampire say that the shadowhunters are holding the girl in their church for now and that they, um, plan on contacting the Clave."

Rage and panic swept over his body. His pack members slowly retreated, instinct warning them that Luke was about to explode, and it wouldn't be pretty. He rarely got angry, so this must be something personal. "Bat, Jake, Jade! Get over here now!"

Three of his top werewolves instantly came to his side; each tense and giving him at least a foot of space to himself.

Luke took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his hands. He needed to be able to think straight. This was not the time to let his worry override his senses. "Come with me. We're going to pay the nephilim a visit." Snapping his fingers, he purposefully strode out the door and into his truck. Even before the doors shut, he could hear his pack starting to gossip about his outburst. Admittedly, he could have handled that more tactfully, and without scaring one of the newest members to the group, but it had to be done. If this happened last night- and in front of the Institute- the Lightwoods would have already alerted the Clave.

The ride to the Institute was silent, but that's exactly what he needed at the moment. As they neared their destination, Bat nervously turned towards Luke and asked the alpha what he wanted them to do. "I need to speak with the nephilim. Stay on guard, and if you see a little girl with red hair and green eyes, tell her that I sent you. Don't leave my sight unless I order it."

Killing the engine, Luke stepped out of the truck and opened the trunk to find Clary's bag. It held some of her clothes, toiletries, and personal items that she might miss. The poor girl was probably terrified. Who knows what the Clave would do once they figured out her secret? Jocelyn was easily recognized. His chest started to ache, but Luke pushed the pain aside. Please Raziel. I served you faithfully for over two decades. Watch over my girls.

~o.O.o~

Clary awakened feeling exhausted. Her eyes felt like they were glued shut, and her throat felt raw. Forcing her eyes open, Clary took in the room, staring at the unfamiliar surroundings. It was furnished with everything a person could need, but it was so impersonal. Shuddering, Clary felt all of the events from yesterday catching up to her. So it was true. Rogue tears leaked out of her eyes, but she hastily dashed them away; it wasn't like her mother hadn't prepared her for something like this to happen, though she forgot to mention the demons and vampires.

Climbing out of bed, Clary noticed some clothes laid out on the edge of her bed. They looked old, and were not things that Clary would have picked for herself. At least they fit... After scrubbing away her dried tears, Clary opened the door. She immediately found herself face-to-face, or rather, face-to-stomach, with one of the strangers in black from yesterday. Scrambling backwards, Clary landed roughly on her bottom.

Chuckling, a tall, silver haired man bent over to help her up. "I see you are up, or rather down. My name is Jonathan Carstairs, and I have been assigned by the Clave to escort you around the Institute."

Standing up, Clary stared at the outstretched hand with a sliver of doubt. Her mother told her to come to this strange place if she was in danger, and that the people would protect her if she showed them her necklace. Her necklace! Clary's hand flew to her neck and found two empty chains connected to it like deadweight. The first was as familiar as her right hand, but the second felt strange. There was something eerie about it and it sent a chill down her spine.

"Where are my rings? My mommy gave me those rings. Please, can I have them back?" Clary widened her eyes and pleaded with the man. He silently assessed her and after an antagonizingly long moment, nodded. Turning on his heel, he waved for her to follow and slowly walked down a long hallway. Paintings adorned the walls at regular intervals and each image involved either an angel, a sword, a cup, or a mirror. None of it made sense, but they projected an odd feeling of comfort that shouldn't belong, yet existed in the depths of her being.

After a dizzying amount of stairs, twists, and turns, the man finally led her to a large set of wooden doors. Pushing them open, he let her pass first and allowed them to slam shut. In front of Clary stood the largest library she had ever seen. Thousands of books decorated the shelves, some behind glass cases, others behind bars, and some lying around on the tables. Clary saw the woman from yesterday, Maryse, standing by a large wooden desk adorned with angels.

Three children were sprawled on the couches: a golden haired boy staring off into space; a pretty dark-eyed girl playing with her long, black hair; and a boy- possibly the girl's twin- sending the other two irritable looks. They all looked up when Clary and her escort entered the room.

Nervous, Clary tugged on the hem of her shirt, hating the way the bright pink clashed with her hair. It felt like she was a charity case, being forced to wear other people's clothes and living in what she originally thought was a run down church. It wasn't her home; her home had paint splattered walls, her mom, and Uncle Luke.

Did he know anything about her mother's past? Her mom once mentioned that the rings once belonged to her and Luke and that if she was in danger, to say that Luke was her father. The vampire, Raphael, messed that up though. He said that her father was some guy named Valentine, but that didn't make sense. Her father was named Jonathan and he died before she was born. Clary even read the newspaper clippings so that must have been true.

Uncle Luke knew her mom the longest; if her mom was keeping something from her, Luke would know. He never lied to her, even when the truth hurt, and she loved him for it. Maybe he even knew about this place and would be able to rescue her from it. She just needed to get her rings, get a phone and call Luke. From her spot, Clary could see the tip of a phone sticking out of Maryse's pocket. If they didn't let her use the phone, she could always try taking Maryse's phone. The villians always made it seem easy in her books.

"Hello. We didn't get a chance to speak yesterday, but I am Maryse and these are my children: Alec, Isabelle, and Jace. Can you tell us your name?"

Clary couldn't stop herself from blurting it out. "Why should I tell you? You could have asked me for my name yesterday, but you didn't. I was sitting twenty feet away from you, and the entire time, you acted like I didn't exist. The only time you and that old guy paid attention to me was when I gave you my rings and asked for protection." Realizing what she just said, Clary felt herself turn a dark shade of red and hung her head.

For a moment, everyone stared at her in astonishment. The blond boy broke out laughing and Clary saw Maryse glaring at him, silently telling him to shut up. Out of spite, he laughed longer than he should have and looked smug when Maryse got annoyed. Clearing her throat, Maryse addressed her again. "I apologize for that. This is the first time we encountered a situation like this and we are still trying to figure everything out. Can you tell us what you know?"

"Okay, but on two conditions: I want my rings back and I want to use your phone." Clary held her head up and forced herself to look Maryse in the eye. Although she sought of the woman's comfort yesterday, she seemed stern and slightly frightened Clary.

"You can have your rings back. The Clave already verified their authenticity. But, the phone will be trickier. Who do you intend to call?"

Clary paused before answering. Her mom made her remember how to get here, to Luke's place, and to some flat in Brooklyn. She also made Clary remember numbers of people to call if she was ever in trouble; the first was to her mom's phone, the second to Luke, and the third to the stranger. She wanted something familiar. None of this made sense and Luke would be able to help. He always had a solution. "My Uncle Luke. I don't want to live here, I want to go live with my Uncle Luke."

Sighing Maryse rubbed her hands over her face. "That's not possible. We do not know who this Uncle Luke is and the Clave has ruled that until this matter is cleared, you are to live in the Institute."

"The Institute? What's that? Some sort of insane aslyum?" Clary looked at everyone's faces and they still seemed to be in shock. The golden boy seemed to find this extremely funny and was covering his laughs with his hand. Angry, Clary shot him her best glare. It just made him laugh even harder.

"This is the Institute. What do you know about our world?"

"I don't know anything! All I know is that my mom made me learn how to get here if I was ever in danger, told me how to get the doors to open, and that I would get help if I showed you my rings."

Clary heard someone scoff. Letting her eyes dart around, she saw one of the men from yesterday, the one who seemed to be in charge. "Yeah right. She is probably lying to us and plotting her way out of here. Like father like daughter" He ended this with a sneer. "There's no point asking her anything. Let's just wait a few days for the Silent Brothers to get here and force the truth out of her."

"Jian! She is just a little girl and besides, she has never even met Valentine." Clary felt the frustration starting to build. Talking to these people only managed to confuse her even more and worsened the pressure building in the back of her head. From the corners of her eyes, everything seemed to waver, and Clary felt like she had to force the scene in front of her to settle. All she wanted was to curl up in the back of Luke's pickup truck.

"Excuse me! I am still here! Now where are my rings?" Maryse arched her brow at Jian. He returned her glare and fished two familiar rings out of his pocket. Clary immediately walked over to him and took them, taking care not to brush the man's skin. The silver rings pleasantly clinked in her hand and Clary immediately slipped them onto her chain. Their weight momentarily calmed her headache and Clary sighed in relief.

Turning around, Clary started walking towards Maryse when a loud siren pierced the air. Everyone started at the sound and the adults immediately ran out of the library. As she left, Maryse told Alec to watch over everyone and was gone before he even finished responding.

As the doors slammed shut, the remaining set of eyes all focused on Clary again. Alec, the one who looked like Isabelle's twin, crossed his arms across his chest, trying to look superior. It was the golden boy, Jace, who finally spoke. "So, we definitely know you have some balls if you are willing to talk back to Maryse and one of the highest members of the Clave. Plus, I really doubt you are honestly as capable a liar as Penhallow said, so what is your name?"

Clary stared at all of their faces. Alec's showed some hostility towards her, but for the most part, everyone just seemed curious. "Clary. Clary Fray."

"Pretty name, Clary, like clary sage. Did you know that people in the past used to eat the seeds of the the plant because they thought it would allow them to see the Fair Folk?" None of Jace's speech made sense, except for the part where he linked it to the plant; her mom liked to include it in her paintings. Alec shot a glare at Jace and told him to shut up since they didn't know anything about her yet.

"Alec, shut up. We finally have another girl here and I am not going to let you ruin this for me." Isabelle walked over and held out her hand. Clary bit back a sigh; she even walked like a supermodel. Shaking her hand,Clary was surprised to find callouses on her fingers, in the same pattern as her mom and Luke.

Distantly, Clary thought she could hear someone calling her name. The voice echoed throughout the halls, but there was a familiar tone behind it. It was deep and reminded her of warm summer nights, camped out under the stars. Luke! He found me!

Running to the door, Clary yanked the door open. A large hand slammed it shut and Clary found herself several inches away from Alec's face. He scowled and told her to remain in the library, but Clary refused to budge. He was too strong to try pushing away so Clary resorted to the dirtiest, yet most effective way to get a guy to leave her alone; she kneed him between his legs. Surprised and in pain, he doubled over. Clary used the opportunity to bolt out of the doors, using the sound of Luke's voice to lead the way.

~o.O.o~

Bat, Jake, and Jade shared uneasy looks when Luke started walking towards the sanctuary. It was the only place they could enter without a shadowhunter's permission, but they couldn't deny their curiosity over the whole matter. Luke became their alpha just under a year ago, and everything had finally started to settle down. Luke was fair, he made sure everyone was well fed and protected, he offered pack members shelter if they had nowhere else to go, and their pack grew stronger everyday.

He always seemed cheerful and this was the first time they saw him explode. Bat saw the way Luke lifted Dill off the ground; his muscles didn't even bulge under the effort. After he was bitten, Bat was rarely frightened anymore, but even he didn't have the guts to ask Luke why they were going to deal with the nephilim. Luke's instructions made no sense, but they all nodded anyways.

Luke emerged with a young girl's bookbag and Bat caught the scent. It was strong here, but he occasionally caught a whiff of paint and candy on Luke. Maybe Luke had a kid that nobody knew about? If he had a kid with one of the nephilim, that was probably why nobody knew about it and why the girl was staying in the nephilim's headquarters. It certainly explained why he went crazy when he heard about the attack and why they now had to deal with these uptight jerks.

Following Luke through a previously padlocked gate, Bat wrinkled his nose. He could smell blood, lots of it. All of a sudden, Luke ran forth and collapsed on his knees. Spreading his legs farther apart, Bat prepared to shift into wolf form when he saw what happened. Luke was tightly grasping a sheet covering a dead woman's body and he seemed to be on the verge of tears. The body is too big to belong to a kid. Was that his lover?

Jake and Jade hovered by the gate, unwilling to disrupt Luke in his obvious grief. A pained howl rang through the air and Bat felt it in his blood. It longed to respond to his alpha's wounded howl and share in the misery.

Slowly, Luke pulled the covers away and revealed a pretty red head. She had messy curls, deep gouges all over her body, and in one hand, she still clung to a blood-stained blade. The gouges must have been from the demon attack, but the dark marks on her skin showed that the nephilim must have arrived too late. She was dressed like an ordinary mundane and only with her sleeves pushed up, could Bat see silver scars from past runes.

Luke was obsessively touching the woman's face, whispering her name. Jocelyn. Relationships between Downworlders, mundanes, and the nephilim sometimes occurred, but it was rare for them to last longer than a few months, and even rare for them to end well. Bat learned that the hard way when he was a mundane and he had the bite mark to prove it.

Uncurling the woman's fingers, Luke picked up the woman's knife and threw it in a blur. If Luke wasn't his alpha, he could have sworn that he was one of the shadowhunters. Whatever Luke did must have triggered an alarm and a loud siren now rang throughout the air. Bat winced at the noise; the sound was barely tolerable to his enhanced hearing.

Three shadowhunters burst through the doors and the woman used a key to shut off the alarm. Bat was used to seeing these people, but he rarely saw them without their customary black gear. A silver haired man seemed to be in charge and he strode forward, an irate expression on his face.

"Get away from that body! The Silent Brothers will be here any minute to prepare it for the funeral. We do not need werewolves desecrating one of our own's remains."

Luke snarled but did not move away from the woman's body. "Jian, I see you still haven't warmed up to Downworlders. But that's understandable; it's only been over a hundred years since the Accords were signed."

Silently and slowly, Bat flanked Luke and felt Jake and Jade copy him. They stood at attention, ready to shift if things turned sour. The woman stared at Luke's face and her jaw nearly hit the ground. "Lucian? Is that you?"

Lucian? How do these people know each other?

"In the flesh. I was always a half hour drive away from you Maryse, not that you or Robert ever bothered to look for me. What happened and where is Clary?"

"Clary? So that's the girl's name. Stubborn little thing refused to tell us until she got back her rings. How do you know her?"

Growling, Luke replied that the girl was his daughter. He seemed to be getting more agitated the longer they spoke. The man scoffed. "Give up the ruse. We already know that she is Valentine's daughter. The vampire ratted her out."

"So what if we aren't related? I am as much of her father as anyone else in the room. Now tell me what happened and let me see my daughter!"

The woman cut off the silver man's reply. "A pack of raveners attacked them last night. Raphael brought the girl here and his lieutenant helped hold the demons off until we got there. It was too late and we brought Jocelyn's body back here to be buried in the Silent City. Clary is now a ward of the Clave and as such, we cannot release her to you."

Bat's head felt like it was swimming. Raphael? As in the head of the vampire coven? It was well known among Downworlders that he despised the Accords and would never lift a finger to help the nephilim. Valentine sounded familiar, but he couldn't remember where he heard that name.

Enraged, Luke started yelling out the girl's name, trying to call her down. Turning his head to Jake and Jade, Bat told them to shift as subtly as they could. He remained in his human form, but things were not going well. Luke had to be careful. The Clave could crack down on their pack and make life hell for them.

An answering cry could distantly be heard from behind the shadowhunters. High pitched pants were getting closer and a tiny girl burst through the space between the silver haired man and woman. Deft hands seized the girl before she could run across the room and she screamed. Pale white hands thrashed about, kicking and hitting everything within reach.

Luke finally stood and was halfway there when a blade landed less than a foot away. "Come any further and you are in violation of the Accords wolf." The cold voice belonged to the silver haired man. The woman still held onto the thrashing girl, but Bat could see that she was quickly losing strength.

"Clary!"

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P.S Please Review!


	6. Just a Dream

Hey Guys! Here is another chapter to my new story! I appreciate all of the reviews and follows. Credit to my awesome beta: Lola FloppyEars who has helped me so much since she became my beta. Just to make this clear, the past five chapters were all part of Clary's memories from when she first arrived in the Institute. I know that the past chapters featured perspectives from people besides Clary, and that is because other people told her what they thought about it all and her mind filled in the blanks.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments.

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_"Clary!"_

Gasping, Clary jolted awake, jarring her right arm against the wall. Cursing, she cradled it, blindly feeling around for her witchlight in the inky darkness of her room. Her fingers wrapped around the rough surface, shakily lifting it up and bathing the room in a dull green glow. Clary let her eyes wander around the room, surveying her old paintings, pictures... and finally paused upon the wooden box, resting on her mantle. She stared at the ornate container and forced herself to take a deep breath._ It was just a dream. You're safe inside the Institute._

Just as her breathing had started to even out, her door slammed open, revealing a tall, defined man flashing a blade. He stepped stepped into the light and Clary could discern the golden swirl of hair atop a handsome face._ Jace_. He scanned the room with weary aureate eyes, only lowering his knife once he was sure that everything was safe. Even being as shaken as she was, Clary couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes. They lived in the Institute; aside from Idris, it was the safest place on Earth. The only danger came from each other- and their nightmares.

"Damn it Jace, what the hell are you doing here? I know you think you're irresistible, but running into a girl's room at 3am? And wielding a knife, I might add, definitely isn't the way into her bed." He slipped his weapon back into his boot and strode to the edge of her mattress. Cocking an eyebrow, he gave her one of his signature looks, the kind that says_ I don't believe you and know you're trying to get out of something._

"I heard you scream and a loud bang, followed by some _very_ unladylike words. Unlike you, I am trained to respond to the slightest hint of danger, and besides- isn't it every girl's dream to have a knight in shining armor come rescue her?" Clary wanted to wipe the smirk off his face, preferably in a painful manner. Jace decided to make himself at home. He moved her books to her nightstand and plopped himself onto the newly freed space.

"Sure, go ahead and sit on my bed. I wasn't planning on sleeping on it or anything." Clary glared at him as she rubbed her arm, feeling a bruise already beginning to form. Rather than responding, Jace gently grabbed hold of her bruised arm, looking it for himself. The heat between them increased exponentially, and Clary had to repress a shiver from this simple touch._ He is just acting like a friend should and making sure you aren't hurt._

"Did you have another nightmare?" Clary felt herself redden under his steady gaze._ By the Angel, I'm too old to be having these silly dreams. This is the third time this month that I've woken him up. Maybe I should move my bed to the other side of the room so that I don't disturb him anymore. Then again, I would end up waking Izzy and that would probably be even worse._

"Yeah, but I'm all better now. Sorry for waking you up." Clary scooted over to Jace's side of the bed and gave him a friendly shove, part of her hoping that he would just leave, and the other half wanting him to stay.

"Liar. If you were all better, your heart wouldn't be racing, and your face wouldn't be glistening with sweat." Jace tugged a stray curl hanging in front of her eyes, and then tucked it behind her ear. "Talking about your problems usually makes women feel better."

"Maybe my heart is pounding because I_ like_ you. You are always bragging about how girls just swoon at the sight of you." The lie sounded unconvincing even to her. Granted, her pulse did speed up whenever she saw him, but that was just because he was attractive. It was natural to feel your body heat up whenever someone incredibly good looking touched or even looked at you, right? It never happened at school, but that was because she never found a guy as handsome as Jace. Some guys at school came close and for a few moments, it was almost as if Jace didn't exist. Then, they would do something that reminded her of the golden boy and that started an entire mental list of comparisons between the two.

Sighing, Jace stood up and began walking to her door. "Whenever you decide to stop lying to me, I will be in my room." He paused right before he reached the door knob. "I just thought you trusted me enough to tell me." He walked out before she could say anything else.

The faint light from the hallway disappeared behind her door and with it, the comfort that came from being around Jace. She rubbed her arms, hoping to create some warmth, but the friction was a lousy substitute. The cold pierced her blankets, slipped under her clothes, and crawled over her skin, cutting straight into her being. It latched onto her bones like iron manacles and created a strange emptiness in her heart. This feeling always got stronger at night, but she usually succeeded in ignoring the sensation. Tonight however, it felt as though her nightmares and memories were taking sledgehammers and battering away at her walls. Bricks were crumbling into powder and Jace's presence renewed the speed at which her barriers fell.

Clary hated it, that feeling of loneliness. It reminded her that she was an orphan, that she was stuck between two worlds, and how it was necessary to hide her true self every time she ventured deeper into either world. It usually nagged at her on the anniversary of her mother's death, but lately, it was starting to become more frequent. The only cure was to distract her mind and allow it to rebuild defenses for the onslaught of her memories. Usually, she went to the training room and practiced her punches, kicks, and her rudimentary knowledge of knife throwing. Last week, Izzy had remarked that Clary was showing a lot of improvement, but that pride was overpowered by why she was practicing so much.

Sometimes, Jace joined her in the training room. They recognized the haunted look in each other's eyes and the restlessness that came from not being able to return to sleep. Coming to a silent understanding, they spent hours training together, Jace occasionally correcting her stance or showing her a new trick to help defend herself against a predator. Tonight was actually the first time he asked her what was wrong, but she didn't want to tell him and she didn't want to spend hours alone in a training room.

She needed a distraction, and Jace was always willing to provide it. He never asked her any questions, and when he came into her room late at night, she didn't ask him any either. It was all about helping each other cope and the brief distraction was always capable of lulling the two of them to sleep. It should have been awkward, waking up, after seeing each other naked and writhing, covered in sweat, but it wasn't. There was just a sense of peace and comfort that made them dread waking up.

As silently as she could, Clary opened her door and walked to the room right next to hers. The door was closed, but true to Jace's word, it was unlocked. He sat on his bed, reading a worn out copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ by his lamp, and used his finger as a bookmark when he looked up. Slowly, she shut the door, locked it, and placed a silencing rune over the knob. The last thing they needed was somebody to walk by and interrupt.

Clary's mind screamed at her to stop and walk back to bed, but she ignored it. All she wanted was for Jace to distract her and prevent the loneliness from assaulting her heart. Clary climbed onto the bed and lowered herself onto Jace's lap, entwining her fingers in his soft hair. Molten gold eyes stared at her, searching for and finding their answer. She knew he wanted a different kind, and tried to summon the courage to say it, but failed. Clary held her breath, unsure of what Jace would do, and tightened her grip on his neck.

A tanned hand gently placed the book to the side and soft lips caressed her ear. His warm breath sent shivers down her back and his arms wrapped around her waist, obviously able to feel it. "Relax, I'll take care of you."

His hands on her waist shifted her body so that she straddled him and slid to the hem of her shirt. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, placing soft kisses as his fingers slowly traveled under her shirt. The rough pads of his fingers brushed across her stomach, dipping into her curves, and running over the lines of her ribcage. Clary could feel the heat between her legs start to rise and her nails dug into the base of his neck when he refused to go farther north. She could feel, rather than hear the deep chuckle that went through his bare chest.

Cold air quickly touched her skin, causing goosebumps to rise everywhere. She started to trace his muscles, focusing on his abdomen because they were his weak spot, and nipped his neck. Her tongue darted out to trace the reddening skin and suddenly, the world tilted. Clary was now on her back, her shirt halfway across the room, and Jace lying on top, running his fingers all over her chest. His mouth ravaged hers, his tongue eagerly seeking entrance into her mouth. She let him in, furiously battling with his tongue, but his experience and dominant side eventually won out.

His hands massaged her chest, causing her to gasps to transition into moans when he started to pinch her nipples. The pleasure was driving her insane. Clary lightly dragged her nails down his back. Something in Jace snapped. As he ravaged her neck, he nearly tore the rest of their clothes off, tossing them across the room. Newly revealed skin rubbed against each other and Clary could feel his length ready; pressing against her thigh. Jace took his time exploring her body, tracing every curve and dip with his fingertips, followed by a light kiss.

Clary could tell that she was not going to leave this encounter unscathed when he honed in on the spot under her ear, using his teeth to nip at it and his tongue to soothe the abused skin. Luckily for her, he mainly reserved the extra attention for her chest and other areas that she could cover with her clothes. His fingers began to trail south and they gently spread her legs so that he could settle in between them.

Closing her eyes, Clary allowed her mind to focus only on what he was doing to her, the way he stroked and teased her opening, the way his fingers stretched her and the speed at which he moved. The pleasure was starting to overwhelm her and she bit her lip to hold in her moans. Suddenly, Jace curled his fingers upwards, hitting an incredibly sensitive spot inside of her that she didn't even know she had.

Clary's back arched and her hips pushed against his, begging him to do that again. Jace used his free hand to hold her hips down, forcing the rest of her body to writhe as he brushed over that spot again. Clary could taste the iron in her blood as she bit even harder on her lips.. Narrowing his eyes, Jace started to slow down. He was still hitting that spot and she could feel her body begin to tip, but he wasn't going fast enough to soar off the edge. She desperately wanted him to go faster, but with each stroke, he slowed down until he was moving as slow as a tortoise. His breath tickled her ear and his voice was a husky whisper.

"Open your eyes and stop biting your lips. When you close your eyes, you can pretend you are somewhere or with someone else." Clary could practically hear him snarl at the last part. "I want to make sure that you are only thinking about me when you cum, and I want to hear it."

Gently, he pulled her chin down and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. Clary opened her eyes and blushed at the intensity of his stare. He never looked at her like that before, and seeing it unnerved her. Shifting her hips, she broke whatever spell was holding him, and Clary could have sworn that she saw a flash of disappointment before he hid it. His fingers withdrew and he fluidly buried himself, up to the hilt, inside of her. Before he began to move, Jace lifted his head and looked at her, silently asking if she wanted to continue. No matter the speed or intensity of their distraction, he would always reign himself in so that he could offer her a way to back out. She never took it.

As they both came down from their high, Clary curled onto Jace's sweaty chest. He held her tightly with one hand and used the other to turn off the lamp. The only light was a sliver of moonlight peeking out from his curtains and with it, she could just make out the bare layout of his room. It was plain and resembled the empty rooms in the Institute, except for a wall full of of weapons. Typical.

Jace shifted underneath her so that he was on his side, just inches away from her lips. He had a relaxed smile on his face, one that was free from his shadows and pain. Clary only saw it in the aftermath of their 'activities' and even though it was selfish, she was glad that only she could see it because it meant that he was lowering his defense; he was lowering them, just for her. Smiling, she leaned forward, and shared a sweet kiss before falling asleep in his warm embrace.

~o.O.o~

Jace woke up, feeling a warm body pressed against his side. Keeping his eyes shut, he replayed last night's events, wondering if he got drunk and went home with another girl. It wasn't likely, his head was clear, and he only stayed the night if he was drunk out of his mind. The body started to move, and red curls suddenly appeared. Clary. Running his fingers through his hair, Jace used his other arm to pull her closer. She never stayed the night whenever they had sex, even when he went into her room, she usually crawled out while he was asleep and slept in his bed.

The first time, he was disappointed when he couldn't find her warm body beside him. He told himself that he was merely interested in another round of sex, but it was so much more. It was being able to wake up to her, see the way the sun lit up her hair, the moment right after she woke when she was completely free from her worries, and being able to hug her without hiding it from the others.

He had no idea why she stayed, but he was glad. Turning his head, he examined the light dusting of freckles on her face, the soft bow of her lips, and the red eyelashes that nearly brushed her cheek. Glassy green eyes suddenly appeared, looking at him in confusion before clearing. A tinge of red covered her cheeks and led down her chest, but before he could finish looking, a light smack brought him out of his examination.

"The first thing I see when I wake is you looking at my chest. Should I be worried about what you do when I am asleep?" Her voice was husky from sleep, and Jace had the urge to hear that voice screaming his name again.

"I'm only looking because this is the first time I've seen it in the light- and I must say, the view's even better than I had expected. Of course, I'm biased since I added all of those new... decorations to it last night." He winked and made a show of examining one right above her heart. Her eyes widened and she looked down.

"By the Angel Jace, did you have to leave so many?" Clary flopped onto her back, throwing an arm over her eyes, unaware of the suggestive nature of her pose. She looked vulnerable and as though she was offering him her body. Blood began to flow downwards, and Jace was glad that she covered her eyes. She was still a bit shy around the whole topic of sex, and Jace didn't want to push her any further.

"Hey, I didn't hear you complaining last night. In fact, I remember you begging me to do it more." There was that blush he loved. Leaning over, he tenderly kissed her, using his lips to convey what he couldn't bring himself to say to her face. She responded eagerly, deepening the kiss, and he finally pulled away with some difficulty. With bright eyes, panting breaths, and lingering touches, they rested their foreheads against each other, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

Reluctantly, Clary pulled her head up and looked at the clock. Groaning, she dropped back on the bed, burying her face into the crook of his shoulder. She sounded like she was grumbling something and Jace had to strain his ears to pick out what she said. Apparently, they overslept and missed their morning run, meaning she would have to do it after school. Well, her words were a bit more colorful than that and Jace was surprised to hear her mix both Shadowhunter and Downworlder curses. Rolling Clary onto her back, Jace leaned up on his elbows.

"If you are complaining about not being able to workout, then I'm sure we can fit in a quick activity that's sure to get your heartrate up." Clary cocked her head to the side like a bird. Her lips scrunched up and twisted to the side, contemplating his offer. She wrapped a leg around his waist, flipped him over and gently kissed him.

"Not enough time. It's the first day of school and I don't want to be late." With that, she stood up, slipped on one of his shirts, and left. Groaning, Jace rolled onto his stomach._ That girl is going to be the death of me._

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P.S Please leave me a review! I love reading what you guys think about all of this!


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